Tangled Threads
by Shadow Flange
Summary: A young girl is driven by a deep hate to learn Nen and seek retribution for the death of one whom she loves. But this simple quest for vengeance becomes something much more sinister when her fate becomes entwined with Gon, Killua, and the others...
1. Mirah

This be my 1st fanfic, So please don't bash it too much :P

**Disclaimers:** Hunter x Hunter characters belong to Yoshiro Togashi blah blah blah…ETC.

ANYWAYS, is anyone else bothered by a lack of important female characters? Sure, you've got the Genei Ryodan girls, but all the 'good' fems are either ditzes (Neon) or have tinnnnny insignificant little roles (Karuto) 

SOO! I decided to create my own spunky gal, Enjoy!

***

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling the warm, soft blanket that was her aura, surround her. It was an evanescent ocean of ever-changing currents, drawn by some mysterious gravity to stay around her body. Already, she had mastered Ten, learning to keep her energy from escaping into the air and exhausting her. It was now effortless -- as natural to her as breathing. However, Ten was only the most basic skill of Nen. To compete with true Nen masters, she would have to be able to control and manipulate her aura. Wing-san had told her that this was far from easy.

She focused on each and every shoko, imagining them as tiny vacuums drawing the deep scarlet aura inside her body.  Her brow furrowed in concentration as she forcefully began to pull it in. Gradually, there was but a thin opaque glow. But this would not be sufficient to hide her presence; she must completely stop the flow of aura around her. Her muscles tensed as she struggled to keep the energy inside of her.

Just a bit more… 

She pulled with all her strength, straining with the intense effort. 

So close… 

It was like attempting to hold back a tidal wave, a billion tons of water pushing against her. Gasping, she collapsed onto the floor and her aura surged out.

"Ughhh! It's useless," groaned Mirah Reiyu as she brushed a lock of raven black hair from her forehead. Her wiry arms glistened with a slight sheen of sweat as she lay against the floor, chest heaving with exhaustion. 

"Relax, Mirah. It takes time and practice to fully control your Nen. Though you've managed to master Ten in a day, there is a big difference between simply keeping your aura from escaping and stopping its flow altogether, or manipulating your aura."

"But Wing-san, how come I still can't control my Nen? Perhaps I'm just some kind of mutated human. Or maybe I'm too weak… or perhaps I'm not even human." She griped exasperatedly.

"Mirah. I know it's hard. But I also know you are perfectly capable. Why else would Netsuko have insisted on this?"

She grimaced.

Wing-san sighed, "I didn't mean to be harsh. You understand don't you?"

"Yes, sensei."

He smiled and ruffled her hair affectionately. "It's getting late. Go to bed, we will continue this tomorrow."

*** 

Okie! That's all for now! Please review and tell me what you think! I promise the other characters will come soooon…


	2. Nightmare

_A scrawny young girl scampered gleefully down the narrow alleyway, bare soles slapping against the dirt caked street. In her skinny rag adorned arms was a warm loaf of bread and several small, steaming meat pies, which she clutched with a feverish tenacity. Still running, she chanced a look back at her pursuers; two men in dark blue uniforms who were currently yelling some indistinguishable mumbo-jumbo about letting her off easy if she gave up. Me, give up? Hah! Her mischievous brown eyes glittered with excitement as she vaulted over a fence and dashed around the corner, crouching behind a trashcan. Tense with anticipation, she listened for the sounds of their approach. Apparently the dummies were still clambering over the fence. A loud clang and thud signified their eventual success. They tore past her hiding spot without a single backward glance. She sighed with disgust; a peanut had more sense than those two._

_"Tag's no fun when you play with idiots," She complained._

_She trotted the other way at a leisurely pace, navigating the dark maze-like alleys with ease. Finally, she arrived at the entrance of a tiny street half hidden by the mounds of refuse, which threatened to overwhelm it. She could barely see the shack, stuffed haphazardly between other such shacks and assorted rubble. _

_"Netsuko will be so proud of me!"_

_For months, Netsuko had trained her in the delicate Art of Thievery. Though her first attempt was rather crude, she knew Netsuko would be pleased with her eagerness. Breathless with excitement, she rounded the corner -- and stopped dead._

_There, sitting before her, was the place she called home._

_But the windows were jagged with broken glass._

_The drapery was in shreds._

_And the door was torn off its hinges, waving to and fro in the slight wind at a peculiar angle._

_Even from a hundred feet away, the stench of freshly spilt blood permeated the air._

Mirah screamed. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her breath came fast and shallow. She clutched the blanket to her chest sobbing.

The same nightmare had haunted her for five years now, but she still couldn't shrug off the horror it had instilled deep within her heart. Mirah recalled the event as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. 

Without hesitating, she had rushed inside screaming "Nestuko! Netsuko!"

She would've tripped over the crumpled form, had it not been painted crimson with blood. At that moment, her mind went numb and her very marrow seemed to freeze. Her thoughts were either too fast to comprehend or simply nonexistent. Words flashed before her in vivid red: "BLOOD", "DEATH", "PAIN", "MURDER", "**_REVENGE_**". Her innocent, naïve 10-year-old mind had been shattered and tainted with blood. 

"Mirah…" 

A raspy whisper jarred her out of her stupor. She rushed to the dying woman's side, gently propping her head up.

The old woman smiled weakly.

"Don't look so unhappy dear. This was meant to be."

Tears welled up in her eyes, "Don't say that…"

"Be strong Mirah. Like your father...and your mother."

"But you _are_ my mother!"

"Listen to me Mirah. Something bad is going to happen. You must leave this place…find your father." 

"Netsuko-sama! You can't leave me!"

The woman brought her hand up to cradle the young girls face, wincing in pain.

"You're a big girl now. Go…to Wing…yes, Wing-san will--" 

There was a sudden whirring sound and all of a sudden, the dark handle of a knife was protruding from the old woman's throat. She blinked once and slumped over limply. Too shocked to speak, Mirah turned around. Standing in the doorway was a tall man, his features hidden by the dark shadow that fell across his face. His long silvery white hair hung loosely about his shoulders.

"Dead people shouldn't speak."

"WHY?! Why did you kill her!" She screamed choking with fury. In a split second, she was on him, punching and biting as hard as she could.

He laughed, grabbing her arm and twisting it around her back in one swift motion. She let out a cry of pain

"Poor, poor girl."

He dropped her carelessly on the floor and turned.

"Aren't you going to kill me now?"

He shook his head. 

"You aren't my target."

It was as simple as that. A complete stranger -- even worse, some hired assassin, and her life was over. Netsuko was dead. She was alone in a world that hated her.


	3. Visions

Sorry for this late post (stupid homework). Ok, kinda weird dream sequence-ish chapter.

***

The tears came pouring down, and she cried with wild abandon. For two days she had lain sobbing on the floor where the assassin had left her, drifting between harsh reality and fitful dreams. Dreams so real, she wondered if she were truly sleeping. She glimpsed a sunny isle, seagulls whirling in the crisp air above a pristine blue ocean. A group of merry adventurers traipsed through the woods. A tall man with a gentle sun-browned face stood next to a slender red-haired woman who smiled and softly touched her cheek, whispering her name. These visions slowly faded and she was surrounded by a thick fog. 

_Mirah._

She turned.

_"Netsuko?"_

Listen! Mirah! 

She searched frantically for the source of this urgent calling. An erect figure emerged from the mist, wise grey eyes piercing through the fog.

"Netsuko!"

She ran happily towards the woman. 

_STOP. We have little time left, come with me._

The woman disappeared as suddenly as she had come.

_"Where are you?"_

_Come._

She followed the voice and there was an abrupt scene change. She was in a tiny room. There was a thick layer of dust and stacks of boxes and other odds and ends were littered haphazardly on the floor. There, to her right, was a woman with long golden hair. She nervously opened a shabby chest in the corner and shoved in a small, thick black book inside and closed the lid tightly. There was a crash downstairs. The woman turned and looked straight at Mirah with grey eyes filled with an urgent fear. 

_Find it. Find them. Find yourself._

She was back in the mist. 

_Mirah._

It was a man's voice, deep and harsh. Cruel laughter filled the air and the silver-haired assassin materialized.

"_Poor, poor girl,"_ he whispered as he plunged a knife into her heart, a cold smile on his lips.

Her vision filled with blood and the scene faded.__

On the second day, she woke up. Mirah packed her few belongings and kissed goodbye to Netsuko, vowing to avenge her death. A new determination had been born within her heart.

***

A bit confusing? This is the end of the flashback, I promise! Don't forget to R & R!


	4. Yet Another Loss

Weird chapter…hope you like it!

***

Mirah yawned, stretching her arms. She squinted at the slim ray of sunlight that had slipped through a slit in the curtains. A new day…but today was special. Today she was fifteen years old. 

Yawning lazily, she donned the usual: A sleeveless black turtleneck, baggy green shorts, and a pair of worn combat boots. After pulling her hair into a quick ponytail, she rushed downstairs to greet Wing-san.

"Ohayo!"

He smiled at her.

"We have much to do today Mirah. We will attempt Zetsu again."

"B-But..!" She grumbled unhappily. Some birthday present this was.

She pouted indignantly and closed her eyes submerging herself in the sea of her aura.  A familiar feeling of warmth surrounded her and she began the arduous process of containing it. Again, a hazy glow of aura remained as if taunting her. Angrily, she tried to force it through the shoko, but to no avail. Once more, it surged out.

"See? It's hopeless."

Wing-san chuckled to himself.

"What!?" She demanded crossly.

"Be gentle. Forcing it like that won't work. Watch."

He stood there, motionless and suddenly, as if by magic, his aura flowed _into_ him.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

"See? It's not so hard. Brute force usually isn't the best way to go about things. Try again but this time don't force it and relax."

She nodded and loosened her muscles, exhaling slowly. _Let it flow into you…_

Mirah concentrated, feeling the aura, her aura. It spun about in lazy patterns and through her outstretched hands. This felt right. It seemed as if it wanted to be inside her. The energy glowed warmly, swirling in wraithlike plumes of smoke into her shoko until they were one. She opened her eyes to be greeted by a beaming Wing-san.

"It's a lot better than before."

After a couple more tries she had mastered it.

"I did it! And I don't feel half as exhausted as I did last night." She gushed excitedly.

"Good job. Let's take a break now, shall we?"

She glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already well past noon.

"Come." He motioned her towards the window. For a while, he simply stared out across the wide expanse of city, not saying a single word. Finally he turned to her. Though he was smiling, there was a queer underlying sorrow that Mirah sensed.

"Mirah…"

 He sighed. "I cannot teach you any more."

"W-What?"

"You are fifteen years old now and I cannot teach you enough to keep you safe forever. You must leave and experience the world for yourself." A peculiar feeling of déjà vu flitted through her numb mind. _You must leave._ The words held a cold sense of finality. They echoed mercilessly through her mind. She had lost two mothers. And now she would lose her second father.

He paused and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a silver pendant– a tiny angel with graceful wings extended and eyes that bespoke pain but also a glimmering of hope. _Eyes that bored into her very soul._

"Netsuko wanted you to have this." He said, pressing the cold metal into her palm.

She felt the tears prick her eyes, but she held them back with ferocity.

"Please…" She whispered.

"Mirah, you must go. I cannot watch over you forever. You have your own quests to seek and your own destiny to fulfill. It must be this way."

"But where will I go?"

"Wherever you feel you must."

*** 

Hehe, do the events move along too fast? I got bored with Wing (no offense to Wing fans) so I decided to move along to the fun part…R&R please!


	5. New Beginning

Mirah shouldered the small sack that contained her few belongings and bid a tearful farewell to Wing-san. She turned her face from the apartment and contemplated her new life. This wasn't so bad. She had roamed the streets by herself for weeks, living off whatever goods she could steal or find, before Wing-san had found her. And she had only been ten years old at that time. Now she was older and supposedly wiser.

"Where must I go?" She said out loud.

The Hunter Exam. That was where she must go first. Although the title of Hunter meant nothing to her, she still needed the Hunter Card. Hunters had access to all sorts of information and if she wanted to find the man who had killed Netsuko, she would need to become a Hunter to obtain that information. How bothersome.

Before long, she had reached the city boundary, facing the murky forest that lay ahead. She would have to find shelter before nightfall, preferably some sort of cave.

Mirah tore through the thick underbrush, mulling over the strange things that had happened in her life.

She had not even the faintest recollection of her birth parents. Her earliest memory was of Netsuko, holding her gently and telling her what a clever girl she was. She knew that Netsuko was not her real mother. Something about the pale skin, bleach blond hair, and grey eyes didn't match up with the little bronzed Mirah. But for all she cared, Netsuko was her mother, not some nameless, faceless woman whom she had never met, who had deserted -- no, abandoned, her. She closed her eyes, remembering Netsuko's words.

_"Don't look so unhappy dear. This was meant to be."_

_"Be strong Mirah. Like your father...and your mother."_

_You must leave this place…_

A sudden thought occurred to her. Netsuko must have known that she would die! She winced at her own stupidity. Why else would Netsuko have given Wing the pendent instead of giving it to Mirah herself? But what did this mean…

She stopped. During her deep thought and revelation, she had failed to notice that the sun had already sunk below the horizon, gone to light up the other half of the world. Darkness had fallen, and she would have to find shelter or face the unseen dangers of the night. Cursing herself for letting her mind wander, she stumbled aimlessly through the forest, searching for shelter. There was an odd faint glow ahead. She froze. 

Had someone followed her?

Cautiously, she crept closer until she could discern the shadows.

A campfire.

And one boy. 

No, two.

They were about her age and not very threatening looking. Travelers, she decided. 

She examined the nearest one. He was of average height, dressed in a queer green shirt and matching shorts. Next to him, lay a wooden fishing rod. Odd, she thought. His dark hair stuck out at a physically impossible angle, in fierce defiance to gravity, and he had a wide, cheerful smile on his tanned face. There was something about this boy that she couldn't pinpoint…something happy and wonderful. She felt stupid for thinking it.

The other boy was taller and looked older. He was pale. Very pale. His thin, skinny frame disguised wiry muscles underneath and he possessed a shock of silver, with a slight tinge of violet, hair, which seemed to defy gravity as well. The boy stood with his back to her, one hand in the pocket of his shorts and one tugging at the collar of his black turtleneck.

They seemed to be discussing something. The black haired boy had been speaking animatedly when he suddenly pulled out a small white card-like object and stared at it in an almost puzzled manner…_wait_…she squinted… _Hunter_…This boy was a Hunter! A sudden, brilliant idea occurred to her. If she took his card, she would save herself the trouble of going all the way to the Hunter Exam and getting one. Two weeks saved meant that she would be two weeks closer to finding the man who killed Netsuko. Yes, she would take it from him, and what use did he have for it anyway? She knelt quietly behind a leafy bush, waiting for her chance.

Time seemed to crawl as she watched them talking. Finally, the tall pale haired boy put out the fire and they promptly went to sleep. This was her chance.

She emerged from her hiding place cautiously, pausing to listen to their steady breathing and confirm that they were both fast asleep. 

She stopped before the smaller boy, gazing at his peaceful features in sleep. How gentle he looked…now where was the card? She reached into his pocket, feeling for the card.

There! She found it and began to draw her hand out slowly so as not to wake him.

It happened so fast that even afterwards, she couldn't figure it out. One second she was kneeling over the sleeping boy, the next, she was pinned to the ground, sharp claws at her neck. She gazed into a pair of merciless, emotionless, indigo eyes.

***

I wonder who this might be…Tell me what you think so far!


	6. Friends?

Wheeee! Next chapter!

***

He calmly examined her. Short, slim, and strong. For a girl. But she was no match for him, he thought with a grim satisfaction as he felt her struggling beneath him. Her short black hair was pulled up into a seemingly haphazard ponytail, wispy strands hanging across her face. Stupid girl. Thinking she could sneak past him. But there was one thing that troubled him -- her eyes. Something about those fierce brown eyes tugged at the back of his memories. She looked at him, not with wide-eyed fear and panic, but with an intense, burning hatred. He brushed his thoughts away.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Thoughts raced through Mirah's head. She could tell that this boy was serious.  His calm, impassive face was no stranger to death…he had killed many times before, and without hesitation. An assassin perhaps? He would have no qualms about killing her. She cursed herself for her stupid mistake. Hadn't Netsuko always told her to be wary of short cuts? She had been so sure that this would help her. Now she would pay for her folly. She tensed as his fingers closed tightly around her throat. He narrowed his eyes, a cold smile playing on his lips. This was it –

"Killua! What are you doing?!"

Her captor turned, facing his slightly puzzled/horrified companion who had just woken up. The vise-like grip on her neck loosened ever so slightly.

"Punishing the thief." He explained coolly.

"Let her go!"

"Let her go? Let her go and take your hard-earned Hunter Card?"

The other boy blinked, "I'm sure there's a good reason…"

Her captor shook his head disparagingly. "Gon, you're too trusting."

The sharp claws left her neck and she scrambled to her feet, dabbing the thin lines of blood gingerly with her fingers.

Killua crossed his arms disapprovingly as he leaned against the trunk of a large tree.

Mirah glared at them like a cornered animal. She still had the card clutched tightly in her hand. There was no way she could outfight the two of them. The skills of the pale boy were impressive enough. But if she ran for it…

"Why do you want my Hunter Card?"

He seemed almost cheerful, with not the slightest bit of accusation in his voice.

Immediately, she had the queer feeling that she could trust this boy, Gon, with her life. His face was honest and open, without a hint of deceitfulness. Warm brown eyes filled with good intention…she unwittingly found herself spilling her story to him.

"I've never met my parents, never even seen a picture. For as long as I can remember, Netsuko's raised me. But she's dead now. Killed. And I've gotta find my them. My parents. That's why I took your card."

Surprisingly, he grinned.

"I'm looking for my parents too. Actually, just my father. But I know how you must feel. Hey! Why don't you come with us?" He asked, sticking out a callused hand. "I'm Gon Freecs!"

She let out a hesitant smile. "Mirah Reiyu."

"And that's Killua Zoldick." Gon said, motioning at the pale boy who still looked as surly as ever.

Gon yawned. "And I'm tired so goodnight!"

Everything had happened so quickly. One minute she was stealing his card, the next they were, daresay-- friends? And she was now traveling with them? She shrugged and sat down, glancing at the sleeping Gon. Her new friend. What a naïve and innocent boy. But there was no way she could ever betray him. She didn't know why, but she wanted to help him, to be his friend. A shadow interrupted her thoughts and once more, she looked up into the eyes of Killua Zoldick.

"Gon may be trusting. But I'm not. One false move and I will kill you."

He gave her a calculating glance, turned and walked away.


	7. Message from the Mists

Sorry bout the late updates! Compendium week…UGHH I hate Social Studies and LA!! My lack of updates can be attributed to these evil essays! Anyways, Thanks for the reviews (Yah, Killua was a bit mean but he doesn't trust people very easily does he?) and enjoy the next chapter…

***

It was that damned mist again. 

Mirah waded through it, madly brushing at it in vain. Everywhere she looked, it was the same soupy gray slush, so thick it seemed palpable. It clung to her, yet when she reached out a hand to tear it away, she found that it was as tangible as smoke.

The Island…find it, find them, find yourself… 

Netsuko's voice. Was Netsuko here as well?

"Find what?!" She screamed in frustration.

The mist slowly receded from the shadowy figure that approached.

Find it…find yourself… 

"Netsuko?" She ran towards it.

**_Go!_**

The ferocity of it shook her and as suddenly as it had appeared, the figure was swallowed in the gray mist.

"Where are you Netsuko! Help me!" 

Find it…everything will be revealed… 

The voice was fading quickly and she clawed at the mist in desperation.

There was a flash and suddenly the mist was gone. Instead, she was surrounded by tall grass and cerulean ocean, in a land flooded with bright yellow sunlight. Seagulls chirped merrily, wheeling through the air. _Find me…_

It was so familiar…

***

Mirah opened her eyes. That dream…what was it? Ribbons of sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above her. She shifted onto her back and stared up at the lush green leaves, forming arcane patterns in the blue, blue sky. The forest was so beautiful and so different from the oppressive concrete of the city. Brick buildings, stone, metal, noise, trash, and masses of people, surrounding her. Overpowering her. The city. Where Wing-san was. She wondered what he was doing now, picturing his kind face in her mind: the untucked shirt hanging out sloppily, adjusting his glasses with a warm smile. A sudden overwhelming wave of longing and homesickness hit her and tears sprang into her eyes. She was so alone…

"Ohayo Mirah-chan! Breakfast's ready!"

Startled, she hurriedly wiped the tears away and bolted up.

"Gon…"

The two boys sat around the fire, cheerfully munching on a sizzling fish. She watched them. They were together, happy, never lonely. And she…she was an outsider, not welcome, not meant to be part of this friendship. With a resigned sigh, she got up and joined them.


End file.
